


Poison in her Veins

by Corycides



Series: Pygmalion [5]
Category: Revolution (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-18
Updated: 2013-03-18
Packaged: 2017-12-05 16:24:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/725358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corycides/pseuds/Corycides
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danny wonders if there's a way to save his sister</p>
            </blockquote>





	Poison in her Veins

There was a bottle of Maggie's poisoned whiskey sitting on the dresser in Danny's nicely appointed jail cell. Maybe Monroe knew what was in it and hoped he'd drink it. Or maybe the guards were just sympathetic enough to think he needed to drink.

Sometimes he'd pick it up and look at the unassuming liquid and think about pouring a glass of it. Was it bitter? Would you only realise what was happening as you died? Or from the first sip Because it wasn't for him. He wasn't stupid enough to think he needed poison to die, not here. It was for Charlie, while she was still Charlie.

So far, he'd never been quite brave enough to pour the glass. He was too selfish to watch his sister die, because she was still there. Brave, clever, loyal Charlie. It was just that somehow she'd decided Monroe was worth loving – because she did love him. Danny thought it was some sort of scheme at first, but even when she went wary or guarded, she looked at Monroe like he hung the moon.

And that twisted her. Danny wasn't _stupid_. He saw the way Miles – _Uncle_ Miles – looked at Charlie, the way she slouched against him like she knew the shape of him. It was obvious. The fact that no-one else seemed to see was probably more to do with everyone being shit-scared of Miles and Monroe both.

She talked about killing too, like something sad but necessary. 'Without the militia where would we be?' she'd asked. 'No law, no order, no retribution. It would be a meat-grinder.'

When she said things like he'd think about getting the bottle and pouring her a drink.

Only then she'd sneak into his room at night, in sock-soles and her shirt, to sit with her hand on his back and listen to him breathe. Or she'd grin at him and for just a second there'd be no Monroe shaped shadow in her eyes.

'Do you ever think about going places?' he asked one night, shifting around to rest his head on her bony hip.

'Why?' she asked, a hint of suspicion in her voice.

He shrugged, trying not to look as tense as he felt. This wasn't important, it was just...talking.

'You always wanted to go New York,' he said. 'New Orleans.'

She relaxed with a chuckle. 'We could go to New York,' she said, tugging his hair teasingly. 'I don't know about anywhere else. I don't get enough leave to walk to New Orleans.'

'But you'd still like to go.'

Charlie grinned and leant back against the headboard, his pillow shifting as she crossed her legs at the ankle. 'I guess,' she said. 'I hear they still have Mardi Gras there.'

'Would _he_ let you?'

Her hand went still in his hair. 'Once mom's finished the amplifier,' she said. 'We won't be so important then, and New Orleans will belong to the Republic.'

He touched the ugly scar on her wrist. 'The General likes you close.'

Charlie paused and gave a odd little laugh. It was..wistful, Danny's stomach turned. 'Maybe he could come too.'

'Go where?' a smooth voice asked, candlelight flickering as Monroe let himself into the room. He crooked a finger and waited as Charlie scrambled off the bed, padding over to his side.

'S...sir?' she stuttered, caught between the different Charlies for a second. 'It's stupid.'

Danny blurted out the answer because if Charlie didn't want Monroe to know, maybe it would be best if he did. 'She wants you to go to New Orleans with us.'

Charlie glared and kicked the bed, jarring it. Then she cast an apologetic look at Monroe.

'I know there's more important things to do than that, Sir,' she said. 'I'm not assuming...'

Monroe cupped her chin, tilting her face up, and kissed her. His thumb caressed the side of her jaw and Charlie went up on her tiptoes in those ugly, scratchy socks to chase the kiss.

'I'll take wherever you want to go,' he promised her. 'Just so I can go with there with you.'

Charlie smiled at him, all startled, dazzled eyes and softness. It made Danny want to scream. Monroe whispered something in her ear and slapped her on the backside, sending her out of the room. Right lead to her rooms. She went left.

That left Danny alone with Monroe. They stared at each other for a second.

'It's not real,' Danny said. 'Whatever you did to make her...like...you, it's not real.'

He hated that 'like'. It made him sound like a child, but saying it was 'love' aloud seemed obscene and he couldn't say 'fuck' about his sister.

'I will hurt her,' Monroe said, almost pleasantly. 'I don't want to, but I will. Remember that. Goodnight, Danny.'

He left. Danny thought about the bite of whiskey and whether the poison in the bottle or in Monroe was worse for her.


End file.
